


Skyrim Drabble Collection

by SlipperySkell



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergent, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Daedra, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dawnguard, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Dragonborn - Freeform, Gen, Skyrim - Freeform, Skyrim Main Quest, TES - Freeform, TESV, The Companions - Freeform, Thieves Guild, like a whole bunch a stuff, p much me writing the story in whatever bits i feel like, skyrim canon characters, skyrim ocs, skyrim original characters, the elder scrolls, there's a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26366344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlipperySkell/pseuds/SlipperySkell
Summary: This collection of writings will be featuring several different snippets of the TES story I'm currently fleshing out. It will feature close to, if not over 100 original characters (yes I really do have that many, and the list is growing still), and some form of retelling for the various DLCs, faction quests, and even the main quests.This will not be posted in any particluar order, so if you do find yourself invested in this story, it might be fun to try and piece everything that happens together. It might not be. I dunno. This is just the best way for me to put things to paper, err, screen i suppose. I realize doing things in a multichapter style fic just wasn't working out for me, as i'd quickly become bored or otherwise fizzled out. So hopefully a more "bits-and-pieces" style might work.I'll likely come back around and put things in order, but we'll see how this kind of writing goes for me.I do hope you all enjoy!
Relationships: Cicero/Listener (Elder Scrolls), Listener/Cicero
Kudos: 4





	1. The Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Cicero takes a journey into the Pine Forest of Falkreath in search of flowers for Babette and Mother.

Cicero idly hummed a tune as he made his way up the stairs to the Black Door, flower basket in hand and a bounce in his step. Oh, he was so very excited! The unchild, Babette, had told him of a place, deep in the woods, full of the most beautiful roses! 

‘It was a garden,’ she’d told him, her voice holding a calmness so out of place for someone who looked like her, ‘A rose garden protected by an ‘unofficial’ member of the Family.’

The plants there were so meticulously kept that they held an alchemical potency seldom seen anywhere else, and Babette, knowing Cicero so enjoyed going into the outdoors, tasked him with collecting some! She needed some for her alchemical experiments, though he’d planned on collecting a few extra for Mother. He would have collected a few of the numerous Nightshade blooms around the Black Door, but it seemed as though the plants were not well kept at all. The plants were many, but the blossoms were small or withered. It simply would not do for alchemical things, let alone good enough to leave for Mother!

Cicero was excited to meet yet another, albeit extended, member of the Family, though he’d found it a bit strange, if not a little concerning, that the Family had recruited someone not actually a part of their group to be their ‘guard dog’, as they’d put it. Surely they knew it was unwise to trust someone outside of the organization, but perhaps there was something with this “guard-ener” and the rest of the Family that he wasn’t yet aware of, he thought with a giggle. 

He’d only been with his newest Family for a month or so now, and he was still getting used to everyone around him, but they all seemed nice enough! Astrid and her husband seemed more to tolerate him than anything, but everyone else seemed to treat him nicely! 

...Except Nazir. Nazir seemed to have a particularly short fuse with him. He certainly couldn’t understand why. Cicero was a bit… rusty with people, sure, but he was still fun to be around, right? He knew Babette and Festus thought him charming, anyway…And he supposed Valskar did find him charming, too, but... differently. He was a strange one, though. The vampiric Nord always acted as though he knew Cicero from some other place, though he was certain he hadn’t met him before. Cicero always remembered a face!

Ah, well! He’ll get used to being around people again, Cicero thought to himself as he opened the door and took in the vibrant green around him. He couldn’t help but feel a smile form on his face as he felt the warmth of sunlight. He couldn’t be in it long without getting a sunburn and a less than pleasant headache, but… it was nice to be able to go outside again. 

It was so calming out there, no matter if the sun was shining or thunder rolled through. The greenery, the sound of wind rustling the leaves of the towering pines, the birds singing dozens of different songs, the bugs buzzing about. The way the sunlight danced on the grass and shrubbery, the blurry shapes of beetles, bees, and other bugs buzzing about in their day to day... All the sights and sounds of the forest seemed to quiet down all the less than pleasant thoughts buzzing about in his head. 

He practically skipped down the trail Babette told him to follow, admiring the flora and fauna alike as it danced around him. He felt as though he was lost within their rhythm, though not unpleasantly so. 

It wasn’t long before his nose was assaulted with the smell of many, many flowers, and he found himself, jaw agape and arms hanging limply from his sides, in front of a massive clearing in the forest, full of thorny brambles and the most luscious roses he had ever laid eyes on. 

By Sithis, the plants themselves were easily taller than he was, and the blossoms were nearly as big as his head! All were not a deep red, but a soft pink, almost white, like a cloud on a summer evening hinting towards the sunset. 

Ah, how he’d missed sunsets… he’d been far too busy tending to his duties to enjoy one as of late. But that was fine, it was as it was supposed to be; he needed to stay and make sure things were put right before he was to enjoy such pleasantries.

Though if his work were to present him the opportunity along the way… 

He shook his head at the thought as he delicately began plucking blossoms. He couldn’t afford to risk such temptations. He had far too much work to do as of yet. As he continued his work, he caught a glimpse of deep purple below the roses, and carefully moved the brambles aside to get a closer look. Under the rose bushes, masses of Nightshade grew, their blooms and leaves equally as plentiful and full as the plants growing above them. He began picking them, too, though not without snagging his gloves on the thorns above far more times than he could count.

It was strange, really. He didn’t know much about gardening, but he knew roses were very peculiar to grow. They had to have been kept incredibly well to grow in such a way, but that didn’t explain the Nightshade. Perhaps something magical in nature…?

His flower basket was nearly full of pastel pinks and deep purples - which didn’t take many to fill - when the nagging feeling he was being watched began to dig at the back of his neck. He was so engrossed with his task that he hadn’t noticed something stir around him. The very air seemed to still, as though stiffening in the presence of something - or someone - approaching. 

He set the basket down and stood slowly, carefully, his amber eyes flicking back and forth as he looked to the forest’s edge. He sees nothing, which only makes him more on edge. 

“Hello?” Cicero calls out. “Is someone out here? Cicero does apologize if he was not supposed to be here. The unchild - ah, Babette! - she had sent me here to pick flowers for her.” 

The silence - no, the complete and utter stillness - that settled over the forest was deafening, and for the first time in a very long time, Cicero felt genuinely afraid. 

“C-Cicero is very sorry, he’ll leave. He’ll even leave the flowers. He doesn’t need them. Well, h-he does, but for Babette. And for his Mother’s grave! But it’s fine, he can leave the-” 

His voice breaks into a shout as something lunges out of the bushes behind him and grabs him. He tries to reach for his dagger, but he fumbles, and the blade falls pathetically to the ground with a dull thump, along with his hat. He’s lifted effortlessly into the air by the back of his motley, and after quickly brushing the hair from his vision, is met face to face with an elf unlike any he had ever seen before. 

She was tall, incredibly tall. And spindly, yet she lifted him off the ground like he was nothing more than the basket he’d been carrying not a moment before. He dangled above the ground, his boots swinging uselessly as she held him too far for him to land a kick. The majestic horns adorning her head and the claws digging into his back told him she was part Bosmer, at least, though no Bosmer he’d ever met before was nearly this tall. 

“And what use might I have for picked flowers, hm?” she asks, her soft voice nothing like the glowing green eyes that bore into him as she spoke. Cicero could see the sharp fangs in her mouth flash as she spoke, and he was reminded that the Bosmer would not hesitate to eat people as well as animals. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and answered.

“Uhh... Well, um, you could replant them…?“ Cicero stammers. The Bosmer cocked an eyebrow at his response before her eyes narrowed and she frowned. 

“...You said a child had sent you here to pick flowers for her?” 

“Y-Yes. Are you-”

“You’re from the Black Door, then?” Her ears perked forward slightly as she asked.

Cicero took a deep breath of relief. “Yes… Yes, Cicero is from the door. You… must be the keeper of this garden, Cicero takes it?” 

Her ears relax and she, too, breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes, I am. My name is Sytaarus, though most simply call me Sy.” 

She gently places him back on the ground, and with a little effort, unsticks her claws from Cicero’s clothes. Now that he’s on the ground, she towers over him. By Sithis, he was barely over half her height!

“My apologies for any harm done… Cicero…?” 

“Yes, Cicero is Cicero’s - err, my name. Yes.” Cicero babbles as he picks up his hat and dagger. She eyes his blade curiously as he puts it back in its sheath. “And it’s fine. No harm done. What’s done is done, and it’s all done, right?” 

Her gaze flicks back to his face, a small smile forming. “... Yes. It is done.” 

Cicero tries, and fails, to stop a giggle from bubbling out of his throat. Sy’s ears twitch at the noise and the smile on her face grows. 

“Well, um…” Cicero stammers as he picks up the flower basket. “I suppose it’s time for me to head back to the Sanctuary. Did… Did you still want the flowers back, or…?”

Sy chuckles and shakes her head as she puts a clawed hand forward, staying Cicero’s, which was offering the basket. “No, no, you may keep them. That was merely a joke.” 

“Ah, thank you, thank you!” Cicero chirps as he swiftly takes the basket back. “I would stay and chat, but I simply must be getting back home.” He turns around and begins to make his way back to the forest’s edge. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sytaarus!” 

“Ah, very well. It was a pleasure meeting you as well, Cicero!” she calls out to him, slight surprise in her tone as he suddenly walks away. “I do hope your mother enjoys the flowers!” 

“Our mother, my dear. Our mother!” Cicero calls out before hurrying back to the Sanctuary. He laughs to himself uncontrollably as he makes his way down the trail, the sounds and sights of the forest no longer providing the calmness it had on his way there. 

How could he have let his senses become so dull?! He very easily could have been killed, were Sy not associated with the Brotherhood. He was shaking, just terribly, no matter how gentle and kind she was after she realized who he was. 

Even now, he could feel her eyes boring into him, watching him. There was something unnatural about them. Something ancient. She certainly wasn’t a vampire; her skin was far from signature deathly pale, and even a vampire couldn’t stand the bright sunny day that came about today. That was the entire reason Babette had sent him out to the garden in the first place! 

Ah, but he didn’t have time to think of that now. He was back at the door, to the wilty little nightshades and the inky black pond. To Mother, to his chores. He told the door the passphrase and waited for the door to swing open before he went inside, where he found Babette standing at the flat section of the stairwell. 

“Ah, Cicero, you’re back. I trust your little quest went well?” 

Cicero paused a moment before a toothy grin spread across his face. “Yes, very well, my dear. Very well.”


	2. Panic Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cicero reflects in his solitude.
> 
> This is set just after the Cure for Madness takes place in my story.

Cicero has had to deal with solitude many times throughout his life, even amongst the company of others. Even before… whatever before was, he felt a little left out. 

Oh, but once Valskar left the Dawnstar Sanctuary - his name still hurt poor Cicero’s head, much to his confusion - he was so very alone! 

Well, he supposes he was alone even with Mother, but... this was different. Wrong. Mother wasn’t here, and nor were the specters of dark siblings past. Not physically, anyway. They were still there in spirit. 

Cicero giggled aloud at the unintended joke as he stalked the halls, his voice bouncing across the stone like a rock skipping over a lake. 

Oh, how he was going to miss Lake Ilinalta. His Listener lived not far from there, in the rose garden, with all the pretty tree people and the butterflies and golden sunlight haloing her pale blonde hair... 

And Mother... poor Mother...

He frowned, his brows furrowing in distress as his walking slowed. Mother is still there. With that pretender. A lump formed in his throat. 

He left her there, all alone. Valskar may still be in charge of keeping her safe now, but that harlot still thinks he’s the Listener. She’ll send him to do all the dirty work, leave Mother unprotected. Only Sithis knows what she would do to her now. 

Before he knew it, there was tears spilling down his cheeks and he let out a shuddering sob, sinking to his knees as the realization hit him like a warhammer to a skull. 

He did the one thing he promised never to do as Keeper. Mother is alone, unprotected, possibly even unkept, depending on how busy Astrid keeps Valskar. 

What has he done? His head screamed, his hat falling away as his hands grabbed at his hair and pulled. What in Sithis’ name has he done?!

Sytaarus - sweet, deadly Sytaarus - was meant to take her rightful place as the real Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. She would grow the Family like she grew her plants. Caringly, lovingly, making deadly poisons to be proud of even from the wiltiest of weeds. A lonely but kind spirit, binding the Family together, safe and warm from the cold under her protective branches.

Valskar would be there, too, a Speaker like no other before or after - if there even was an after for one as unkillable as he - there to guide the reintroduction of the Black Hand, there to guide the rebuilding of their precious Sanctuaries. Far from cities, far from the conflicts of others. Safe, hidden little nests of deadly snakes, where he and three others of his title would rule. Watchful eyes and mindful tongues would flick and flit, and the family would coil, ready to strike, at the sight of opposition. No more cowering, no more fear. United as one. The others would fall into line, the others would finally understand. 

They could finally all be one big, happy Family. 

But even then, in this daydream, this fantasy - where did that leave Cicero? Where would he be, what would he do? 

Well, he’s certain he’d be taking care of Mother. Even though those duties would normally fall to the Listener, after one was found, Sy’s Bosmeri claws were much too large and sharp to care for her herself. She’d run the risk of tearing poor Mother’s flesh, even if she were careful as could be. 

He’d at least hope he would be allowed to stay by Sytaarus’s side when his duties were done, but…

Given everything that’s happened, he can’t say that’s a privilege he’s allowed to partake in anymore. 

The jester seemed to agree. 

“What makes you think you’d even be allowed to care for Mother anymore?” the jester taunted as he took on his physical form. “It’s obvious you can’t even do that right, either.” 

Cicero flinched at his words, but looked up and met the jester’s spectral gaze with a brave face. “That’s not true.” 

The jester cocked an eyebrow. “Really, now? You’ve left her all alone with the pretender, yet you’re doing your job well?” 

The jester leaned forward, his ghostly face inches from the Imperial. “You know what she’s going to do with her, Cicero?” 

When he didn’t answer, the jester rose back to his full height and began to pace. “She’s going to take her and throw her in the lake. Let the muck, and the fish, and the mudcrabs, and all the little bugs and creatures eat her. Destroy her.” 

“Valskar wouldn’t allow for that.” Cicero said firmly.

“But that wouldn’t matter if Valskar was taken out of the picture,” the jester answered coolly. “Same with your precious little flower.”   
Cicero’s gaze hardened, and the jester took that as a sign that he’d hit a nerve. 

“By the Gods, Cicero, can’t you see what you’ve done?” the jester continues dramatically, gestures and all. “You’ve torn this Family apart with your antics! Your rantings and ravings!” 

“You knew Valskar was trying so very hard to keep everything together. To bring the Old Ways back, have everything go back to normal. He even lied - by your request, might I add - and falsely called himself Listener so Sytaarus could be safe.” 

Cicero remained silent. 

“You know, I do find that very interesting. The lying bit. Do you remember what you did when you found someone else was lying? About being the Listener?” The jester stopped and tapped his finger against his chin in thought, before his face lights up and he gasps. “Oh! I just so happen to - you killed him! Or rather, you had someone else kill him because those duties you SWORE to follow to a TEE didn’t allow you to take someone else’s life as long as you were Keeper.” 

Cicero was unable to keep his gaze, but the jester grabbed his face and forced him to look. “What makes you think you’re different from everyone else, hmm? Makes you think you can follow or break the rules as fits your whim? You’re no better than Astrid.” 

Cicero’s face turned to a snarl. “That’s not-” 

“You’re just as much as a pretender as she is-”

“No I’m no-” 

“- You lie, you break the Tenets, you put those you care about in danger and left mo-”

“Stop-”

“YOU LEFT HER TO ROT!” 

“STOP IT!” Cicero screamed, tears running down his face. “STOP IT, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE HAG!” 

“Admit it, then.” The jester said quietly. “Admit you’re just as bad as she is.” 

Cicero opened his mouth to speak, but the jester just chuckled. “Look at you. Pathetic. You don’t even put up a fight anymore. I don’t even have to try.”

Cicero’s mouth closed and he just stared. The jester smiles, satisfied with his work, and disappears, leaving Cicero all alone once more. 

His head falls in his hands, and Cicero weeps a long time, in the cold, dimly lit hall of the Sanctuary. Weeps for siblings past, who should have lived instead of himself. Weeps for Mother, who he’d left unprotected. Weeps for his newest Family, led by a fool who would lead them to ruin. Weeps for Sithis, who he has failed time and time again. 

And most of all, he weeps for himself. Such a mess he’d become. Such a mess he’d made of things. 

But crying wouldn’t fix it. It never did. 

He rose to his feet at the thought, his body stiff from staying still for so long, yet feeling number than he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t fix this; perhaps he wasn’t meant to. 

A strange feeling settles in his gut as he makes his way to the haypile he called his bed the first time he’d ever come to Dawnstar, though he knew he wouldn’t sleep. He’d done enough things, set enough things into motion. He lays down, his head pounding, and he’s sure he’ll have a nasty headache in the morning from the crying done before and the drinking sure to come. 

He’d done enough. Now it was, once more, time for him to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG ANGSTY ANGST HOURS BAYBEEEEEE


	3. Skell-erbane's Bestiary: Frostbite Spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Basically: unlike fallout and the wasteland bestiary, i'm gonna keep ecology stuff in here along with the drabbles i write just so i don't have to make another work collection thing)

General Frostbite Spider things: A lot more dangerous than we see in game. Can’t actually spit their venom at you (err, well, they can - it just doesn’t really do anything), but some will fling webbing at you in an attempt to slow you down before they go in for the kill. Very good eyesight, and sensitive to vibrations in the ground and air through the hairs they have covering their bodies. They grow exponentially, but the older they are the slower they grow. Very common to come across the shed exoskeletons of frostbite spiders, and if you’re lucky, you might even come across a freshly molted one. This would be an opportune time to strike if you wish to hunt one, as once their shell hardens, they’re nearly impenetrable. Aim for the abdomen, going for their legs is a useless endeavor and their cephalothorax is just too tough to get through. Different regions have different variants of frostbite spiders, whose proportions and general personality vary based on environment and diet. None are above cannibalism.

Average length - 8 feet

Average height (defensive position) - 12 feet

Average weight - 700 lbs

Average speed - 25 mph

Snowy Frostbite Spider: Snowy frostbite spiders are the most “heavy-set” of the group. Large bodies and short legs, along with the cold environment, makes for them to be quite slow, even lethargic, in nature. This in turn means they can’t effectively chase their prey down, so they instead will opt to ambush, be it in the treetops or by staying still in places of high activity while waiting for the moment to strike. Snowy Frostbite Spiders are generally solitary, though multiples can be seen waiting in the same area to get their hands on prey. They typically feed on Horkers that come in to rest at the beaches, but can also pounce on deer, trolls, giants, people, or anything else big enough to eat. Think of them as the tarantula of the frostbite spider family, hair included.

Forest Frostbite Spider: Pretty much the default frostbite spider we see in game. Probably the most common, and therefore have the most variation in size. Can feed on anything from squirrels and birds to deer and bear, depending on the prey item’s size relative to its own. Liz (the frostbite spider found in the Falkreath Sanctuary) is a forest variant. Forest variants are the best at climbing and have been reported to quickly move from tree to tree in pursuit of prey, be it by jumping from trunk to trunk or by moving through the branches, depending on their size. These ones are also solitary, but unlike the snowy frostbite spiders, they will become aggressive towards other spiders who come too close. Spiders found in the reach are also forest variants, but with different colors/patterns.

Marsh Frostbite Spider: Very big long tall leggies, which allows for easy traversal across the marsh. Easily the most lanky, and therefore dainty, of the frostbite spider family. Like the snowy frostbite spiders, they’re solitary, but will group up in areas of high prey activity so they can all get a slice of the pie. Hatchlings are light enough to “walk” on water, but as they grow older and heavier, the more effort it takes until they simply can’t. Generally the smallest of the spider family, marsh frostbite spiders primarily feed on mudcrabs, with unusually sturdy fangs and corrosive venom that allows them to break through the shell and get to the inside. They’re also known to eat fish, large aquatic birds and mammals such as herons, geese, and beavers. Generally are not known for attacking people, but if threatened or desperate, they wouldn’t hesitate.

Plains Frostbite Spider: Though rare, this variant of the frostbite spider is easily the most dangerous for people, and the only variant that will coordinate with one another and pack hunt. Extremely sensitive, movement based eyesight and relatively long legs make them an apex predator in the tundras, as the open fields leave little to no place to hide. Their diet consists of anything they can chase down and kill, be it something as small as a skeever or as large as a mammoth. There’s even been rumors of a group taking down a dragon, but no evidence has been uncovered to confirm this. Unlike any other variant of frostbite spider, this group is nomadic and will let their offspring ride on their back as they travel and hunt.

Hotsprings/Cronvangr Frostbite Spider: The hotsprings spiders are not entirely their own variant, but rather some odd hybrid of the marsh and plains variant. The strong fangs and venom of the marsh spiders paired with the aggression and pack mentality of the plains spiders makes for the most dangerous variant of frostbite spider, notorious for feeding on the mammoths there, though truly, their hunger knows no bounds and they will hunt damn near anything that moves.

Blackreach/Cave Frostbite Spider: While no one is entirely sure how these spiders got into Blackreach, the place has certainly taken its toll on them. Completely blind, they instead rely entirely on vibrations on the ground and air, feeling their way through the darkness. Their front limbs have elongated and grown claw-like endings, not unlike the whip scorpion, that they use to grab their prey when they have found it. Much like the other variants, these spiders aren’t picky, and have even been reported to attack dwemer machinery after having mistaken it for food.


End file.
